Paradigm Shift
by ColossusCrusher
Summary: After a devastating attack on their home, six survivors must figure out what to do next.
1. The Shattering of a Home, Part One

Disclaimer: I do not own Magic: The Gathering. I only own my original characters.

If there is a spell referenced that you do not know, please use the following website: http://gatherer(dot)wizards(dot)com/Pages/Default(dot)aspx

If you know anybody who may like this story, please recommend it to them. Also, reviews are always appreciated, since they give me feedback with which to improve my writing in future chapters.

Paradigm Shift

Act 1, Chapter 1

The Shattering of a Home, Part One

***

The Four Junctures, Haven, Refuge, Sanctuary and Asylum were created by four ancient Planeswalkers at the dawn of the Multiverse. Through their combined magic these planes were granted the ability to connect to every single plane in existence at all times. Originally designed as a way for those being pursued to quickly lose a trail, more advanced planes realized the strategic impact of controlling one or more of these Junctures. To prevent this the four Planeswalkers became the guardians of these planes and set up schools of magic where magically gifted from any plane could learn their arts. The hope was to foster a spirit of peace and community, and as such bring peace to the Multiverse. As all idealistic concepts tend to do in this day and age, it failed. One by one the Planeswalkers were forced for some reason or another to abandon their Junctures, leaving their defense to specially designed constructs and the students and teachers residing there. After centuries of attritional warfare, the lesser three of the Junctures were overrun, leaving only Haven to continue teaching mages from planes all over. Should Haven fall, there will be a paradigm shift unlike any the Multiverse has ever seen, for he who controls Haven, controls all.

Refuge, Sanctuary and Asylum lead to every plane in existence, which makes them coveted in their own right. However, at the heart of these three planes lies part of the key. The key, when assembled, gives the bearer the ability to open portals to Haven. Without it, the only access to Haven is via planeswalk or a two-way portal originating from Haven, which closes when its creator either dies or returns to Haven.

The Supreme Juncture Haven inverts the saying "all roads lead to Rome". Instead, Haven leads to all roads. Although Haven shares this quality with the Lesser Junctions, it is also the ultimate warehouse for knowledge. Many things that are long extinct on their home planes exist on Haven. Powers that should have long since been destroyed are studied on Haven, and many advanced planes lust after them. Control over just a fraction of the power on Haven is enough to grant mastery over a great portion of the Multiverse. It is for this reason that Haven has always stood strong against invaders. Until now.

***

A small portal opened up on the edge of the plane. A robotic probe rolled through it, sending images and information back to its masters on the other side. Atmosphere: habitable. Life: abundant. Magical Proliferation: Total. Probability of a Match: Ninety-nine percent. The probe moved forwards, observing the enormous forests in front of it. A whirring sound could have been heard had anyone been there as a drone detached from the main unit and hovered into the air, scanning for proof of a match. There it was. The castle was on a hill, towering over everything save the mountains further behind it. Affirmative. This was the target.

As soon as the message was sent, the portal widened. Dozens of soldiers poured through it and began to set up a permanent portal. One look at them revealed the degree of technological advancement on their plane. They were clad head to toe in matte-black body armor, the only coloration being rank stripes on the shoulders. They carried heavy laser rifles in their arms, although each man also wore a combat knife at his belt, along with several explosive grenades. Not a single speck of skin was visible along their bodies, the armor covering everything and leaving no discernable weak spots. They went about their work silently, already knowing what they had to do. With the beachhead secured, it was only a matter of time before Haven fell.

***

Frenira Tral skipped along humming to herself as she enjoyed the beauty of the forest around her. The towering oaks and maples made her feel at home, having been raised to be at one with nature. The thirteen-year-old human was from an obscure plane near the edge of the Multiverse, and only a chance encounter with a wandering recruiter had revealed her burgeoning talents with White and Green magic. She had only arrived a few weeks ago, and was already learning spells. Just a few days ago she had finally managed to cast the Llanowar Elves, a staple creature for those in the Green school. All of a sudden she stopped. Something felt…wrong. The little girl brought forth her only creature, scared. That was when the world around her erupted into flame and destruction as the hidden soldiers opened fire on her and the Elves. The creature only got a short gasp off as it exploded back into the Æther, source of all magic. Frenira fell to the ground as a series of laser blasts hit her body, mortally wounding her. The last thing she saw was the men emerging from the forest. Then the world dimmed and faded to black as the spark of life left her body forever.

The men stood over her body, wary of anyone who might have heard the gunfire and decide to investigate. One of them asked, "What are your orders, Captain Hunt?"

"You know them already, soldier. Leave nothing, dead or alive. Disintegrate everything," came the reply, cold and menacing under the helmet.

***

Natasha Lightbringer was sitting next to the wall, writing her term paper, when everything seemed to explode around her. A large piece of the masonry behind her erupted outwards, knocking her to the ground and causing her to lose consciousness for a few moments. When she came to she saw a group of about fifteen armed soldiers clad head to toe in combat armor passing her and opening fire on the students assembled for the exam. What seemed to be pulses of energy flew from the muzzles of their rifles, ripping anyone unfortunate enough to get in their way apart in a shower of gore. That she had been wearing her Paladin's Armor had most likely saved her, since the other students in her row had been shredded by the collapsed wall. Natasha felt something warm trickling down her back and cautiously reached back to feel it. There was blood running from her wings down her back.

A few students tried to fight back, but were unable to muster more than fleeting resistance, caught off guard as they were. That this was an introductory course only made the massacre even worse. Natasha watched in amazement as Professor Halgen, one of the strongest professors of White magic in the entire Academy released a massive burst of White magic, casting a Mass Calcify on the opposing soldiers, turning them into white statues. As it so happened, Halgen had been unable to save any of the other students, having chosen to eliminate the soldiers rather than expend his energy in a futile attempt to do both at once. Natasha got up and asked, "What's going on?"

"I don't know, but you have to go, now," came the reply, her teacher's voice hard as steel.

"But I need you to protect me," she protested, the angel's eyes filling up with tears.

"When I became a professor I swore an oath to protect the students of Haven in any way possible, even if the price of fulfilling my oath was my life. Today, so that you may live, I must fall. I do not expect you to understand why this must be done, but I do expect you to follow my orders. Now, go!" responded Halgen, a glow of White magic forming around him.

Natasha nodded, tears now flooding down her face. She sprinted towards the hole in the wall and jumped out the hole made by the attacking soldiers, tucked her wings in, and fell into the open air. Her wings spread out, lifting her up and towards the top of the fortress that housed the White classes. She saw grappling hooks attached to the battlements - the soldiers had rappelled up in order to attack their class. She dropped to the ground in shock as she beheld the rest of the Academy. It, her newfound home, was in flames. She spread her wings and flew to the nearest area, the top of the Blue spire complex.

The angel landed on the top of the center spire and held her head in her hands, unsure of what to do next. A huge flash of light lit up the daytime sky, blotting everything else, even the sun, out. She turned towards its source, only to have the subsequent shockwave bowl her over and slam her into the railing circling the observation deck she was on. The entire White complex was either atomized or in flames. A blast at least a hundred times stronger than a standard Wrath of God had ripped the zone apart – Professor Halgen had infused the spell with his life energy, causing it to become so supercharged that it turned into a massive, all-consuming explosion. She extended her mana sense towards the blast area, only to find it void of everything. The shockwave, magical in nature, must have obliterated the animals that called that area there home. She turned with a start and stifled a scream as she heard the trapdoor that led to the inside of the spire open up. Someone, or something, was coming up from below.

***

Lerin Niktothal wrapped himself up in an Invisibility enchantment as he made his way through the Blue spires. As he tended to be, he had been late to class. As it turned out, that had saved his life, since he had been fortunate enough to hear the mayhem from the hallway. A quick diversion to a tertiary stairwell – he didn't trust the secondary stairs to be safe – led him to the center spire. The Blue complex consisted of four smaller spires arrayed in a square around the larger center spire, with causeways every few floors that allowed for quick passage between them. Once he had arrived at the main building he had been forced to create the enchantment due to the copious amounts of mysterious soldiers patrolling the lower halls. After a long walk he finally arrived at the central stairwell that led to the observation deck, from where he could fly out. He carefully noted the two guards, and then cast the spell that would let him through without incident – Shadow Rift. The world around him took on a gloomy hue as everything became darker. Lerin walked up to the door, opened it, passed through and closed the door again. The Shadow Rift took him to a parallel plane of Haven, one based in the Shadow World. Every plane had such a copy, but few ever accessed them. In the real world, the door he had opened remained shut, and the guards stayed oblivious to his passage.

Lerin took a deep breath and began the second part of the spell, the part that would take him back to the real world. The world swirled around him, but when his vision resolved, he was stuck in the world of Shadows. Typical, he mused. He hadn't properly accomplished the spell when he had learned it in class, and the error had nearly cost him his life as a Shadow beast almost had taken his head off. That time he had been able to recast the spell, but it remained a one-way trip instead of the two-way it ought to be. Then he heard it, that slobbering sound. The creature was back, and this time it would not be stopped. Lerin turned around and rolled to the side just as the creature, a hound, really, jumped past him. He launched a Boomerang at it, slamming the beast into a wall, which slowly staggered to its feet, enraged. By now Shadow Rift had recharged, and he cast it again, emerging into the physical world just as the beast passed through his body. As he took a few tentative steps, he felt himself sliding back into Shadow. The one time he got the spell right, it came back to bite him. This time the beast was on him immediately, and only quick reflexes had gotten his hands around the thing's neck, preventing it from tearing his throat out.

It was not widely know, but the human, as inattentive as he could be at times in class, was very adept in certain schools of Blue magic. Namely, the ones with daily, practical use. One such school was mental manipulation of physical objects, or Telekinesis. In this case, Lerin unloaded a massive telekinetic blast at the beast, and all of a sudden the pressure on his body ceased. He got up, and realized that he was holding the severed head of the beast, the rest of the body having been thrown across the circular stairwell, coming to a halt only because it couldn't bounce very well. Lerin calmed down and reattempted Shadow Rift. "Come on, one-way, one-way," he said to himself as he cast. Finally, the mage was back in the physical world. He released the hold on the spell, which would pull him back to Shadow again if it was a two-way trip. After a few seconds, Lerin realized that he was still on the physical version of Haven.

After a quick self-congratulation, he ran up the rest of the stairs until he reached the trapdoor access. His mana sense told him that there was a White caster, most likely an angel, given the profile, on the deck. He released the Invisibility and cast a Mistform Dreamer, which he turned into a horror. It was no more powerful than before, but it would give the soldiers a moment of pause. With that, he pushed open the door and stepped onto the observation deck.

***

Natasha watched in fear as a human came up onto the observation deck. She managed to stammer out a "Who are you?" before curling up against her body. The angel was a paladin-in-training, but the circumstances she was currently in overwhelmed the control she normally had over herself. Still, it was rather odd that she was so scared of someone so much smaller than her. She was an even six feet two inches in standard units, while this man was a mere five and five. Her pale blond, nearly white, hair hung over part of her face and covered one of her blue eyes at times, depending on the wind, was cropped short as befitting the mandates of her order. The young man, for he could not even have been thirty standard years old (and he was a human at that), had brown hair that went down to the middle of his neck, combed front-to-back, creating a natural framing effect over his face. He smiled and said, "Lerin Niktothal at your service. I left a small guardian at the stairs to give us warning if we have to flee. I assume you can fly?"

Natasha, slowly becoming more at ease as she realized that this man meant her no harm, replied, "Natasha Lightbringer, initiate-member of the Order of Light. Yes, I can fly," the last part quieting down to a near-whisper.

"I suppose you wouldn't know anything about what's going on, would you?" asked Lerin.

"All I know is that my favorite teacher is dead. Professor Halgen did that to the White complex," she replied, tears beginning to form on her eyes again.

"So that's the massive shockwave that I felt. Lucky I was indoors," Lerin said, mostly to himself. Facing Natasha, he said, "I am very sorry for your loss, but we have to start thinking about how we can escape Haven. If we stay here we will be found and killed."

"What do you suggest we do, then?" retorted the angel, regaining some of her lost composure.

"I suggest we find some more survivors. My mana sense is pretty strong, and there are quite a few students left in the other four areas, counting the artificer's labs. It seems that the White and Blue zones were the first ones hit. I think we should go towards the Black area – the students and teachers there will probably put up quite a fight, given the type of magic at their disposal," suggested Lerin after a few moments of thought. When Natasha nodded her assent, he formed a Flight enchantment around himself. As they prepared to jump off, the pair heard gunfire as the Mistform creature guarding the door was torn apart. They ran to the edge of the deck and kicked off, soaring high into the air as soldiers came up behind them. Once out of range, they headed towards their new destination, unsure of what would come.


	2. The Shattering of a Home, Part Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Magic: The Gathering. I only own my original characters.

If there is a spell referenced that you do not know, please use the following website: http://gatherer(dot)wizards(dot)com/Pages/Default(dot)aspx

If you know anybody who may like this story, please recommend it to them. Also, reviews are always appreciated, since they give me feedback with which to improve my writing in future chapters.

Paradigm Shift

Act 1, Chapter 2

The Shattering of a Home, Part Two

***

Captain Hunt swept his right leg up into a roundhouse kick, slamming into the head of the zombie in front of him. Once that leg was firmly entrenched on the ground he spun around, sending the heel of his left foot into a similar motion. The sheer power behind the blow, enhanced by the armor he and his soldiers were wearing, nearly tore the creature's entire head off of its shoulders. He then aimed his laser rifle at the leg of the other zombie and fired, sending it to its knees. His right leg arced around the creature, the heel smashing into its head, slamming it into the ground. Now that the immediate threat was over, Hunt took a moment to survey his surroundings. He had sent a unit into the Black complex, a massive maze of dungeons. It hadn't come out, although contact had been lost about a quarter into the sweep. Seeing as he had sent identically sized forces to clear out the White and Blue areas that meant that there was much more resistance in the sector. As such he had decided to devote additional forces to the pacification of the area. His superiors had made it very clear that failure was not an option.

"Sir, may I ask you a question?" asked one of the other soldiers with him.

"Go ahead, Corporal."

"Why do you use those close-quarters maneuvers when you have the chance? Wouldn't simply shooting them be safer?"

Hunt mentally sighed. With a narrow vision like that he doubted that this young man would ever get past Sergeant.

"On the one hand, it saves ammo. I know that the power packs can recharge, but that takes time, and in a heavy combat setting I would just put in a fresh one anyway. This way I can fire from the same pack for a longer time. On the other hand, and this is more important, Corporal, is that there is a detrimental psychological effect to seeing your forces easily dispatched in such a spectacular manner. If the enemy is demoralized it is easier to attain victory. Do you understand?" he explained, the last question not being so much an actual question as an order for comprehension. The resultant "Yes, sir" revealed that in detail.

With that settled, Hunt began to issue a few more orders, namely for increased caution – the backup forces had already suffered horrifying casualties, and they were only halfway through the complex. With any luck the other sections were better off.

***

Balevos Gdevi crouched on a ledge, assessing the situation. There were two soldiers a small distance away from each other guarding the door he needed to pass through. With a thought he cast a Darkness spell, enveloping himself in a smokescreen of sorts. Balevos ran to the edge of the ledge and jumped off, using the strength of his vampiric heritage to full effect. He tucked into a roll and came out of it just in front of a soldier, who he stunned with a small blast of mana. That gave him the time he needed to get behind his victim and snap his neck. He turned to the other soldier but saw that he was already on the ground, the unfortunate recipient of the spells Duress, Ostracize and Distress. His mind, unable to take the strain, had shut down. Balevos' compatriot turned to face him.

"Nicely done darling, but I think that the Darkness wasn't needed," said Athela Korusel, one of the few painmages in his class. Virtually every single spell in her arsenal inflicted pain on another, and she was quite adept at casting several of them in quick succession. Athela walked over to Balevos and lightly caressed his chin before turning back towards the door. This was a game they had played many times. They were simply friends, but they both appreciated the sexual tension that had developed over the course of their association.

They were mostly similar in how they viewed magic – something that should be used to supplement one's skills and to gain a decisive edge over another, but they went about it differently. Whereas Balevos used his magic to assist his physical combat skills, Athela preferred to stay further back and close in only when needed.

Perhaps the most striking difference was in their attire. Balevos wore lightweight fatigues and a simple tunic. His only protection consisted of a tough yet flexible leather vest and a pair of leather armguards and greaves, both of which covered the entirety of his forearms and shins. Three swept-back metal fins jutted out of the armguards, attached to a metal plate fixed to the underside of the leather, creating a useful tool for a variety of situations, be it disarming an opponent or stopping a slide down a smooth surface. The greaves emerged from under a pair of sensible combat boots. Balevos tried to be prepared for any eventuality, and his attire reflected that outlook.

Athela, on the other hand, had only one word that could describe her: dominatrix. She wore black leather high-heeled boots that reached to her mid-thigh, while her arms were clothed in the same fabric up to the middle of her upper arm. Her corset, if it could be called that, covered as little of her torso as possible while still being acceptable for daily use. A miniskirt, which like the rest of her attire was made out of black leather, was slit at the sides, allowing for more mobility. Of course, the trade-off was that she revealed her undergarments with anything more exertive than walking. Given what she was wearing, however, Athela clearly didn't care. She turned her head as Balevos replied to her, "Of course it wasn't necessary, but it kept their aim off. Not only that, but the psychological effect of seeing an attacking smoke cloud must be quite severe. Now, why don't we go through this door? Our compatriots still control the forest exit, so we should make as much haste as possible." Balevos took a knife from one of the dead soldiers, strapped the sheath on behind his back and tossed the other soldier's to Athela, who put it at an angle on her thigh. With that, the pair headed towards potential freedom.

***

Glirana Talenthor raced across the treetop platforms that made up the Green complex. The forest was huge, and navigating the vast network of platforms was difficult for most. A Fog spell billowed out behind her, blocking the view of the three soldiers chasing her. Before they could switch to infrared she cast a Giant Growth and jumped from the platform, swinging onto the vine that was the starting point for one of her favorite obstacle courses. She had just left her room when the attack came, and she could take the route to this course from there blindfolded. The vine in question required enhanced strength to reach, as did the following section of the course. Glirana released her hold on the vine, landing on top of a small platform. She jumped off before her spell dissipated and grabbed onto the monkey bars ten feet above her and began to rush to the end. The elf felt her strength ebbing as she was halfway there – the spell was wearing off. With a titanic effort she made it to the end and made the fifteen-foot drop down to the next platform. Temporarily safe, she took a moment to assess her situation.

She had been about to go to her favorite class – Enhanced Strength 103 – when she heard the distinctive sound of laser fire. Not knowing what it was, she had made her way towards it, only to freeze and hide behind a tree as she saw the carnage unfolding in front of her eyes. A large group of about twenty soldiers were shooting into a pack of assorted beasts and creatures, controlled by the students behind them. She watched in horror as a Groundbreaker emerged from the ground underneath the soldiers and began to tear them apart, killing half of them before its internal energies gave out and it collapsed to the ground and vanished. Once the powerful elemental had died the soldiers, although shaken, rallied. With pinpoint accuracy they were able to eliminate the remaining creatures and turned towards the students. A resounding crash heralded the arrival of a Thorn Elemental as it fell to the ground from the upper canopies, landing in between the two forces. A barrage of thorns launched from its body, skewering the five soldiers too slow to take cover. That, however, was all that happened, as the remaining soldiers threw incendiary grenades at the creature, setting it ablaze. Enraged, the creature lost all control and sent flaming thorns in all directions, killing the students it had sought to protect before it staggered off the edge of the platform and fell to its demise. It was here that Glirana had broken into tears. As the remaining soldiers emerged, she had stepped out from her tree and blasted two of them off the platform with raw, unrefined mana. As she realized what she had done – reveal herself to these men, who clearly would kill her given the chance, she turned and ran as laser pulses flew past her.

With a sob, the elf's thoughts returned to the present. She was about a quarter of the way through the obstacle course. If she finished it she would wind up near the Green entrance into the Black dungeon complex. Seeing how she didn't have anywhere else to go, Glirana began to move in that direction.

***

Mana charged through his stolen knife as Balevos slashed through the throat of a soldier, holding the blade in a reverse grip. Dodging to the side he switched into a normal grip and slashed into his second target's chest before throwing it into the last one's forehead. He had nearly died earlier in his breakout attempt when he had tried the same maneuver without charging the blade. The intruders' body armor was strong enough to resist an unaided slash, and only Athela's raw blast of power had saved him. In this case he had quickly dispatched three of them while she had dropped from above landing behind the last enemy, grabbing him and slicing his throat. The pair had left a trail of bodies behind them as they fought their way to the Green entrance. Considering the echoing footsteps that they were always hearing a pursuit was close by. Now they were in front of a pair of huge double doors with a giant Green mana symbol placed in their center. Balevos hit the switch to open them.

"Well, my dear, it seems like we made it out in one piece," he said to Athela, who was watching the passageway from which they came. That was when he heard weapons fire and Athela's cry of pain. He turned and sent a Mutilate down the corridor, horribly disfiguring the enemies. He ran over to his friend and knelt beside her.

"I can't go with you," she gasped. The blast had hit her in the leg, and she was in no condition to walk, much less escape with him. "Leave me behind. I'll cover your escape. It's best that one of us lives than both of us die. I'm sure you understand that."

"I would have done the same for you, Athela. Our friendship means enough to me that I would lay down my life for yours. As it seems, fate is requiring that the tables are turned, and I will not forget your sacrifice. You will live on in my memory and through my deeds. I will strive to honor you in everything that I do, no matter what those actions may be." It was a common stereotype that Black was a selfish color, only interested in furthering one's own power. That was false. The true aim of Black was the gathering of power in order to protect those close to one's heart. That it put no restrictions on that path was what made it seem like the color of evil. In a sense, it was the most honest of the five, admitting that it considered the ends to justify the means. Balevos knelt down and lightly brushed Athela's lips with his, as was customary on his home plane for those about to die. They had known each other for years, and this was the first time that they had done more than hug. Athela smiled weakly and put a hand on his cheek as Balevos moved away.

"Perhaps in another time, we could have been lovers, Balevos. I am grateful for everything you have done for me, as I am sure you are for me. Don't worry. You will see me again. Of that you should have no fear," she said, smiling. They turned their heads as they heard more footsteps. Balevos gave her another brief kiss and ran towards the exit, turning only once to say, "Farewell, dearest Athela."

Athela took a deep breath and began to charge up her mana. She had promised that she would survive, and she intended to keep that promise. She had kept one of her plane's greatest secrets to herself. Every single person on her plane was given the biological enhancement of his or her choice. In her case she had chosen a symbiotic organism that, when activated, gave her vastly increased physical abilities, including regeneration. That being said, most of these enhancements had negative side effects, ranging from psychosis to death almost immediately after activation. Because of this she had never used hers until now. Her eyes turned red as the symbiote activated. She felt the sudden rush of power and released the withheld energy in a massive blast, creating the spell Damnation.

Balevos turned just as he reached the exit. A large black orb had formed above Athela and lightning was blasting out of it as it struggled to restrain the titanic forces contained within. As he left the Black complex the spell released, and exploded outwards, sending a shockwave of force the sent him flying into a tree. The entire structure that housed the double doors began to collapse, sealing his path from pursuers. A single tear fell down his face as he slowly got up and dusted himself off.

***

Glirana tumbled through a bush as she finished traversing the obstacle course. If she were correct, she would be in front of one of the Black complex's entrances. Instead all she saw was a pile of rubble and a visibly shaken vampire resting against a tree. As she approached he saw her and pulled out a long and quite bloody combat knife from behind his back, holding it in front of his body in a reverse grip.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"No. I lost a very dear friend in that rubble," he replied, replacing the knife in its sheath. "I assume that you are one of the survivors from the Green complex, given the greens and browns of your attire," he stated.

Glirana lowered her head slightly – he was completely correct, after all. Her light cloth clothes were ideally suited for quick motion in forests, but they left little in the way of ambiguity regarding her origins. The head lowering turned into a curtsy.

"Glirana Talenthor, member of the Flora tribe of Elves, plane of Viridia at your service." She had been taught to be courteous to strangers by her elders prior to her arrival at Haven. The Elven tribes of Viridia had a deep belief in the power of cooperation in the face of strong opposition, which was one of the reasons why the great forests of her plane were still intact and not cut down for lumber. A series of loggers who had suffered particularly spectacular deaths had put paid to many of those schemes. The Elves were peaceful, but when riled they rapidly rose to the occasion.

"Balevos Gdevi, Assassin's Guild, plane of Kithia at yours," replied the vampire – Balevos, bowing his head slightly. He continued, "Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, we should evacuate this area. I was not exactly quiet in my escape, and this area will be teeming with soldiers in a few minutes. Considering that the Blue and White complexes are compromised, and ours are most likely about to follow, we should head over to the Red area. I know a man who could help us out a great deal with affecting an escape. That is, assuming he is still alive."

Glirana repressed a shudder at hearing the vampire's profession, but was able to put that aside by justifying their working together as the best course of action in the situation. Internal squabbles in an alliance were the best way for outside forces to pull it apart. She would give these invaders no chance to do so.

"I guess you know best, Mr. Gdevi. Shall we go?" she asked.

"Please, call me Balevos," he replied, beginning the walk towards the Red complex.

***

Captain Hunt stood idly at the portal back to his home plane, from where supplies and more importantly reinforcements were coming through at a steady pace. The destruction of the Green complex had gone mostly according to plan, although there were a few hiccups. Namely, the professors had managed to summon a series of enormous beasts that had wreaked havoc among his men before portable anti-tank fire had brought them down. After the first such encounter he had put in a request for a large number of heavy weapons. His superiors had been hesitant, but oddly enough, they had become quite pliable upon seeing the footage. _Desk jockeys_, he thought to himself. The Black complex was even worse. He had a feeling that the casualty list from that area would be worse than the other five – including the Artificer's Labs – put together. He had come across some corpses that had obviously been killed by standard-issue combat knives. In other words, some escapees had put his own weapons to use against him. Particularly vexing had been the destruction of the passage way from the Black to the Green. It had forced his men to go around in order to secure the area, and most likely there had been more than a few escapes from that gap. He stopped his musings as a Sergeant approached him.

"Captain Hunt sir?" asked the subordinate.

"Yes Sergeant?"

"What do we do about prisoners?"

"Prisoners? Our orders were to kill all sources of resistance."

"Exactly. My men and I have come across multiple targets that were rendered unconscious and as such are not sources of resistance. We have been outfitting them with neural disruptors in order to prevent them from escaping, but I wanted to ask you what would be the correct course of action."

"What is your name, Sergeant?"

"Albert Stevens, sir."

"Alright, Lieutenant, take me to these prisoners."

A detectable elation rose in Stevens' voice as he said, "Yes sir!"


	3. The Shattering of a Home, Part Three

Disclaimer: I do not own Magic: The Gathering. I only own my original characters.

If there is a spell referenced that you do not know, please use the following website: http://gatherer(dot)wizards(dot)com/Pages/Default(dot)aspx

If you know anybody who may like this story, please recommend it to them. Also, reviews are always appreciated, since they give me feedback with which to improve my writing in future chapters.

Paradigm Shift

Act 1, Chapter 3

The Shattering of a Home, Part Three

***

To say that the assault team was under heavy fire was an understatement. In light of the increased resistance at the more combat-oriented complexes, Captain Hunt had sent two full pacification forces as well as mountaineer support in order to overwhelm the Red complex. In all, this amounted to just over ten thousand men. As it turned out, over half of them had died just battling through the pass that led to the mountain that housed the Red students and professors. Sergeant Krilyan had thought that the hard part was over once they had made it out of the trap-infested pass. Goblins and other small but numerous creatures had been nipping at them as they went, slowly but surely depleting their strength. That was when he saw the Dragon Roost at the mountain's summit, guarded by seven dragons. He had gasped when he saw an eighth emerge, a jet of flame erupting from its mouth as it heralded its arrival. Nevertheless, he and the rest of the force had attacked. Only their shoulder-launched multipurpose missiles had saved them from becoming dragon fodder. He shuddered as he remembered making a desperate dive into the ground as a dragon raked the ground around him with fire. Most of his squadmates hadn't been as lucky. Particularly impressive had been a missile fired at the Roost as another dragon emerged. That rocket had hit the dragon in the mouth as it breathed fire. The resulting explosion from the two volatile objects had torn the Roost apart. That was when the Elementals had attacked them.

A swarm of humanoid creatures that seemed to be made of coal or some other black rock had attacked them. The things were also emitting flames at various parts of their bodies, flames that had proven to be quite deadly at close-quarters. Luckily these seemed to be light infantry of sorts, since a few direct hits from a laser rifle would put one down. Still, sheer numbers had forced them back into the pass opening, where the funneling effect it created neutralized the numerical advantage. When they had gone back onto the offensive, they were attacked by a pack of Ball Lightnings and Blistering Firecats. Whereas the former were simply semi-sentient lightning the latter were basically giant cats made out of smoke and flame. They both tore through men with ease. Krilyan had never seen anything like it. One man tried to shoot one, but the cat simply pounced on him and tore him apart. Then, all of a sudden, the creatures collapsed into ash and dust. Apparently they had a limited energy supply, which was just as well, since by themselves they had killed at least five hundred men and injured over a thousand.

Now Krilyan was simply fighting his way up the mountain with the rest of his comrades under a hail of direct fire from the students and professors, who emerged from caves dug into the mountain. Whenever the attackers reached one the fighters around it would send energy into it and completely collapse it. Then they would enchant themselves with a Bloodfire Infusion and become living bombs. The explosions caused by the students' death throes had been impressive, to say the least. Attempts to clean out a cave area with mortars had failed, because then the students would enter the cave, collapse it and reemerge higher up the mountain. Krilyan pulled out his radio, "Base, this is Sergeant Krilyan. All of the higher ranked soldiers in my company have been killed. We are under heavy attack and require immediate fire support. Do you read me?" He silently whooped with joy when he heard the reply, "Support has already been requested. It will be there in twenty minutes. Hold on, soldier." Unfortunately for him, he hadn't realized that he was slightly exposed. A Volcanic Hammer arced down towards him from above, blowing apart with enough force to send Krilyan through the rocks he had been using for cover. The support was en route, but he would never see it.

***

Hran Kalgor grunted with satisfaction as his hammer spell blew the soldier apart. He had lost count of how many similar spells he had fired over the course of the battle. The minotaur felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around.

"Shift change, Hran," said his replacement.

"Do we still have warriors in reserve, then?" he asked.

"Yes, but we're bleeding. Every entrance we lose is a defeat, because it gives them more places from where to dig. Now, get some rest and leave the fighting to me."

Hran nodded and made the fifteen-minute walk down the cave, ignoring the many side passages that led to classrooms, dorms and other similar areas. Once he reached the central chamber he had to go down an incredibly long spiral staircase. Most of the cave exits that he passed on his way down had been sealed, a marker for those still alive telling them not to even try going down those paths. When he reached the unofficial command center for the Red defense he sat down and watched the fight via the view-orbs hovering above the massive magma pit in the very center of the mountain's interior chamber. The orbs were linked to the area around the mountain, and they allowed for a perfect bird's eye view of the area. A few close-ups of explosions and direct hits revealed the semi-aware orbs' penchant for the dramatic. That was when the fire support arrived.

Back at the main area, at the gate that led to the mountain pass, trucks were lining up into a row. The twenty vehicles carried rocket artillery launchers on top of the chassis. Each truck had twenty missiles, and each missile would in turn fragment into twenty smaller missiles – the very best in cluster rockets. On a single command, they fired. Hran's face took on a puzzled expression as he saw the soldiers fall back to the base of the mountain. That tactic didn't make any sense, especially since they had paid a horrible price to get to where they were. Then he saw the rockets release their cluster munitions, making for a massive barrage of eight thousand cluster rockets. The students and professors out in the open set up shields, but compared to the force they were about to experience the outcome was never in doubt. The mountain seemed to erupt into flames as rockets pounded it into submission. Hran saw one professor's shield withstand twenty or so direct hits before collapsing. The next rocket hit near her, and when the dust cleared, she was gone. By the time that half of the rockets had expended their murderous payloads it was likely that there was not a living thing left on mountain's face. He looked around and saw everyone else in the cavern looking on in astonishment as well. As soldiers swarmed up the mountain and began to enter the caves that hadn't been collapsed by the barrage the last remaining professor – a teaching assistant, really, stood up and began to take command of the situation.

"Everyone! Get into the escape tunnel. It's our only hope. If there's a cave-in and you can still go on keep moving. Our priority is for some of us to survive. Remember that at all times! We need a rearguard of volunteers to hold the line for the rest of us. Who's with me?" he bellowed, his voice magnified in the cavern.

Hran got to his feet and made his way to the aforementioned exit. The minotaur was large, to say the least. He came in at six and a half standard feet and, due to his species' physique, was able to carry a weight that would have designated a human of equivalent height as 'overweight' with ease. Apart from his bull's head, overly wide chest and brown mane of fur that went halfway down his back he was completely human. His tanned olive skin glinted in the firelight of the magma pit as his grey eyes assessed the situation. One of the first into the escape tunnel, he would emerge near the Artificer's compound. His plate-armored legs jingled slightly as he jumped into the tunnel and began to run down it, closely followed by a pair of humans. The TA remained behind with about twenty of the hundred survivors. When the soldiers arrive ten minutes later the rearguard lasted all of fifteen minutes.

As Hran read the markers designating the distance left in the tunnel – half a mile to go – he heard a rumbling sound. A quick look up proved him right.

"Hurry! There will be a cave-in any moment now!" his deep voice resonated down the tunnel, spurring on bursts of speed from the escapees. About a quarter of the survivors were past the point when the ceiling collapsed. He heard screams of agony as the falling rocks crushed students into broken shells of their former selves.

"Keep going. Let them dig themselves out. Remember our mission: survive at all costs," he sternly told the rest of his small group, now numbering only twenty including himself. Unfortunately for him, most of the others were humans, pitiful empathy-ridden creatures that they were. They had no sense of honor or duty, instead preferring to do anything in their power to save life. Some life had to fend for itself, and the small creatures did not understand that. The few non-humans, goblins mostly, stuck with the humans, scared and cowardly beings that they were. Only one other student, a fellow minotaur, stood fast with him and continued to escape. He didn't know the minotaur's name, but Hran could tell that he was not from his own plane – this minotaur had a tail, cloven feet and thick fur from the waist down, as well as a medium-sized gash on his right thigh.

"Humans. What a weak race," said his companion.

"Agreed. They have no sense of duty," replied Hran. "May I ask you your name, warrior?"

"Galdar Marn is my name, from the plane Bengas. And yours, good sir?"

"Hran Kalgor, plane of Pellespont. It is an honor to meet you and fight by your side," he replied, giving the traditional Pellespontian greeting to worthy strangers. Galdar nodded and replied in kind, most likely with his plane's version of that phrase.

By the time the two minotaurs made it to the exit, they had heard laser fire behind them. The heavy boots echoing down the tunnel revealed that the soldiers had massacred the remaining students. They reached the exit and quickly kicked open the door, sending Pyroclasms out into the open, letting the waves of fire clean out the area for them. The Artificer's compound was in sight. Fortunately, there were no soldiers nearby – the spells had been a useless but necessary precaution.

"Kalgor, go on towards the Artificers. I will hold them off here. The cave-in cut my leg, and I can go no further. Fight well, and bring honor to yourself," said Galdar, already preparing a position from which to fight the soldiers.

"Likewise, Marn," Hran acknowledged. The two minotaurs butted heads as they went towards their separate destinies. Hran was halfway to the Artificers when he heard laser fire and sensed spellcraft. Then it stopped. He kept running.

***

Christa Woodward was sitting on her bench, tinkering with her new prototype Rocket Launcher artifact. The artifact required an incredibly inefficient mana-to-damage ratio, and so far all of her attempts at resolving that quandary had failed, some more spectacularly than others. She had, however, been able to make it reusable. Instead of the strange-looking device that the Rocket Launcher started out as, it was now a sleek replica of one of Earth's most infamous weapons – the Rocket Propelled Grenade Launcher, in this case the ever-popular RPG-7. Charging the device with mana would create an image of the explosive warhead, which would then fire as if it were a physical version, with the same explosive results. She didn't know if the unidentified invaders were Terrans or not, but she considered explosive warheads to be universal translators of sorts.

Christa cursed her inability to cast-create equipments and artifact creatures and shook her head, sending her ponytail swinging back and forth. She always kept her wavy hair tied up at her workstation for safety reasons. There were four main types of Artificers – the Smiths, who specialized in equipment and were able to enhance those artifacts to beyond their normal level, the Creators, who were able to do the same with artificial creatures and the Transmuters, able to transform one artifact into another as long as they had similar energy requirements, magical or otherwise for their creation were the most common of the four. Christa was a Replicator. If she perfectly understood all of the facets of an artifact's structure, she could expend magical energy to instantly create new copies of that artifact. Currently she could only do so for quite simple artifacts, but there were legends of artificers replicating incredibly complex machines. All Replicators yearned to reach the heights of the great Artificer Shol-Myr, who had been the first, and only to replicate a Darksteel Forge – and survive.

She sighed and checked her bag of tricks, as she called it. Inside were several of her uniquely modified spellbombs. She had been able to devise a way in which all of the abilities of the different spellbombs resided in one device. It cost a bit more to create, but she was content with that tradeoff. Christa could use all five colors of magic, but was unable to use them as part of a spell's casting cost. The sole exception to that rule, for some reason, were the unique artifacts designated as 'Sunburst', which grew in strength in proportion to the number of types of colored mana that was used to cast them. This was what made her live in the Artificer's Labs and not the Multicolored House. Just as well, really, because hostilities had commenced with the House being shelled into oblivion. She also carried a pair of Caltrops, the simple artifacts being relatively hard to cast although their simple design made them easy to replicate. Finally, she had a few strands of Barbed Wire, so that she could form a thicket of it at a moment's notice.

Christa got up from her bench and tied the bag to her waist. She pulled out a Granite Shard from one of her drawers and put that on her hip as well. The Rocket Launcher went on her back. A bandolier of Telim'Tor's Darts was arranged over her torso, giving her quick access to the throwing weapons. The benefit of having the end room was that there was only one official entrance to her lab. As soon as she had heard of the attack, which hadn't taken too long, given the noise it had made, she had set up a Leonin Bladetrap in front of her door, triggered to go off when someone stepped on it. Immediately following that was a Magma Mine that she had compressed four times. When _that_ was touched off the explosion would probably collapse the entire area. And, just for overkill, she had a Time Bomb set to go off five minutes after the Magma Mine blew up. She was grateful that magic let her set up explicit parameters for her creations.

She had been told many times over her life that her fascination with explosives was not something a woman should be interested in. Each time, she ignored those skeptics. As it turned out, she had been right all along. In other times she would have been called a tomboy, but Earth was slowly becoming more gender-equal. Even so, she had always been one of the few girls, if not the only one, in her area to be incredibly interested in technology of all sorts and science fiction. That was what had led her to pursue a dual degree in physics and mechanical engineering. Simply put, Christa liked building things and knowing how they worked. As she opened up the hatch for her escape tunnel she heard pounding on the door behind her. They had taken their time, but the soldiers had finally arrived to take her out.

"So long, boys," she said to herself as she closed the door behind her.

The first thing she heard was a scream as the Bladetrap claimed its victim. The escape tunnel would take her outside, facing the Red complex. The soldiers must have regrouped, because the Magma Mine still hadn't detonated, she thought. A resounding explosion behind her forced her to reconsider that analysis. The underground tunnel opened up a short way away from the labs, but Christa waited until she heard another explosion, that of the Time Bomb, before emerging, holding a spellbomb at the ready.

***

Hran stopped in astonishment. A human woman had emerged from beneath the ground, holding some sort of device in her hand. He wondered what the other artifacts she was carrying were, but was prevented from considering them further when he saw the wreckage of part of the Labs. Clearly she had been the person who had blown the area apart. Or rather, that explanation made the most sense. He held his hands up, fingers splayed outwards, and slowly walked towards her.

"Are you well, miss?" he asked. The woman turned in surprise, but refrained from using her device. She walked over to him and put her query a bit more bluntly.

"Who the hell are you?" was the reply in question.

"I am Hran Kalgor, minotaur warrior of Pellespont."

"Christa Woodward, human engineer of Earth," she replied, her voice almost dripping acid.

"Forgive me, but I must ask why you insist on treating me with such rancor when I have done nothing to deserve it?" asked the minotaur.

"I just blew up almost everything I had. I think I have a right to be bitter. The only things I have left are what I have on my back. Sorry about that," came the reply, more apologetic this time, but still somewhat edgy. The both turned as they heard something in the bushes nearby. A pair of soldiers emerged, leveling their rifles at them.

"Freeze wizard scum!" they ordered. Before Hran could do anything Christa had thrown her spellbomb. Unfortunately, she had panicked and as such did not use the explosive feature that Red mana provided. Instead, she blindly grabbed at the first color she could, Blue in this case, and released it. The detonation simply knocked the soldiers back into the ground, leaving them briefly unconscious. The two survivors began to run in the opposite direction.

"Where should we go, Mr. Kalgor? I was thinking towards the Black area, but maybe you know something I don't," asked Christa, her demeanor changing from her formerly gruff self. Near-death had ways of doing that.

"Please, call me Hran, Kalgor, or Hran Kalgor, but do not use any titles other than warrior. And yes Woodward, I agree with your analysis. Let us make way to the Black campus with all immediate haste," he said, not noticing that the Terran female's eyes rolled upon his use of formal language.


End file.
